


404: False Image

by houfukuseisaku



Series: virtus migrat in vitium [3]
Category: Evillious Chronicles
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Multi, an au of an au because nothing is simple anymore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-12
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2019-10-08 21:41:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17394200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/houfukuseisaku/pseuds/houfukuseisaku
Summary: Even if this is a false image, as long as they see it, it’s fine.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> this fic has pretty much nothing to do with the shitoo song, sorry. i just wanted the title and a line from the song for the Aesthetique.
> 
> happy(ish) oneshot by seisaku as a gift for houfuku. please read this and yell at me at the end

In the heart of the forest.

A lone woman sits in a garden, with only her thoughts and her shadow to accompany her.

“…It’s cold.” Meta comments, more to stave off the silence than anything. She shivers a little, bringing her hands to her mouth to breathe on them and warm them up.

**It’s almost winter again. How time flies.** Malice idly answers, though her calm tone does nothing to hide her growing restlessness, a sensation Meta can acutely feel in the fidgeting of her own fingers.

They don’t hide anything from each other, not anymore.

Noises come from the cottage behind them, but Meta resists the urge to peek over her shoulder despite her burning curiosity. Not just her own, either; Malice wants to know what’s up, too.

**Wonder what they’re planning.**

“Probably a little surprise party. Maybe they’re baking a cake.”

**What’s the occasion?**

“Dunno.” A shrug of the shoulders. It really is getting cold. Stifling a sneeze, Meta wraps her arms around her shoulders, trying to conserve body heat.

**Do you want me to take over for a little bit?** Worry colours Malice’s tone; Meta smiles when she hears it, gives a little nod. **Alright. Come here.**

They swap places with ease, fluidly exchanging places between the physical world and the mental plane. Meta heaves a light-pink sigh of comfort as she nestles in their mindscape, just as Malice comes to in her body and actually does sneeze, prompting a polka-dot yellow giggle from her headmate.

“Goodness, it really is cold.” Malice complains, rubbing her nose. “How long have we been sitting out here?”

_About two, three hours, give or take._

“They must be terrible at baking cakes.”

_Come, now. Give them some credit, at least. The twins can make a mean brioche when they put their minds to it._

“Indeed, they can.” A gentle chuckle of her own escapes Malice’s lips. The two of them spend another quiet moment, just enjoying each other’s company.

And then…

“Oh.”

The tiniest little snowflake drifts down from the cloudy sky, dancing on the breeze. Malice watches, transfixed, and Meta watches with her.

_—Hey._

“Hm?”

_You’ve never experienced first snow, have you? It’s always been me. Go on, touch it._

“I suppose.” The snowflake flutters over. Malice reaches out with both hands, catching it in her palms. Watches it melt to water almost immediately. “Ah, that’s what they feel like.”

Somewhere inside her, Meta laughs, sending out a wave of orange-red warmth. Malice takes a moment to wrap herself up in it, cherishing the sensation, before returning with a swirl of gratitude’s goldenrod.

Just then—

“Mama, we’re done!” Hansel and Gretel excitedly yell, both peeking their heads out from behind the door. Eve waving her over from the window. “Come inside, Meta! We’re ready!”

Shaking her head, Meta and Malice swap back, before rising from the tree stump they were sitting on and heading towards the door. The twins are practically bouncing on their heels, and Meta gives them each a fond pat on the head as they usher her into the cottage, Adam closing the door behind them.

“Alright, alright, what’s… going on…?” Meta asks, trailing off as she takes in the scene before her.

Cagliostro, helping his mother Raisa to a slice of ham, the two of them perking up at her arrival and giving friendly waves.

Beside them, Robin, the little girl in a red riding hood who always sold matchsticks to Eve for bread and bedtime stories, her cheeks already stuffed with food as she flashes her a cheeky grin.

Hansel and Gretel themselves, jumping into their usual seats by the dining table, happily taking turns to feed each other brioche without a care in the world.

Eve, seating herself next to them, and giving her the brightest smile she’s ever seen, like a star in the evening sky.

And Adam, gently guiding her to a seat at the head of the table, in front of which a beautiful cake proudly displays itself, topped with cream and cherries and thirteen candles.

“I… I don’t—“ Meta chokes out, voice cracking with emotion.

“Oh, Meta, it’s so good to see you again. I’ve missed you so much.” Raisa beams, reaching over the table to grasp her hands. “It’s good to see you doing well. Your children, too!”

“H-how…? I—I thought, you…"

“I thought so, too. It's nothing short of a miracle.” Cagliostro pipes up, nodding and gesturing at Robin. “Truly, a miracle, and the help of a kind little matchstick girl.”

“Aw, shucks.” Robin snickers, rubbing the back of her head in embarrassment. “I jes’ found ‘er wanderin’ the streets a few ‘eeks ago, yeah? But she din’t remember much ‘til I took ‘er to Caggy, got Eve to ‘elp out with sum herbs an’ magics, and. Well, ‘ere she is.”

“A few weeks?” Confusion furrows her brows. “Why didn’t you come see me earlier? Or—” She ducks her head down. “Maybe you didn’t want to see me… I understand.”

“No, no, nothing like that, honey-bear!” Eve interjects, curling a finger under Meta’s chin and gently tilting her head up. “It’s just that, we wanted to keep it a surprise! For today!”

“Today?” Meta parrots back.

“Don’t you remember?” Adam chides, tenderly, then stifling a laugh when Meta still looks perplexed. “Oh, goodness, you really don’t? Today, thirteen years to the day, was when—”

“I met you.” Realization dawns in her eyes. “I met you, here—thirteen, thirteen years? Has it really been—we’ve been together for—"

“Yup, yup! Thirteen years, just one year less than how old we are!” Gretel chortles, ribbon bobbing gaily on her hair. Eyes sparkling, Hansel continues, “Wow, Mama, we’ve been here for thirteen years! And we’re almost fourteen now!”

“We wanted to celebrate the day we became a family.” Eve explains, nodding. “And, well, knowing your history with Raisa, we wondered if you’d like her and Cagliostro to join our family too.”

“And Robin as well.” Adam adds, reaching over to ruffle the aforementioned girl’s hair. “I think it’s high time we get her away from her father and make her one of our own.”

“I—yes! Yes!” Overjoyed, all she can do is breathlessly utter the words, her heart filling with love and warmth and sheer joy. “Of course, I—Raisa, Cagliostro, Robin…”

Malice, too, smiles inside her. **This is wonderful,** she whispers, radiating bright white contentment, **it’s what you deserve, Meta. They all love you so much.**

“And—”

“And? Oh, what else is there to give?” Meta burbles, welling up with tears. “This is. This is so much, too much already. I’m so happy, I don’t need anything else—"

Adam and Eve share a wordless glance, before both rest a hand on her shoulders, looking her in the eye.

“…The offer extends to you too, Malice.” Eve quietly says, grip tightening.

Meta’s breath hitches in her throat. Malice’s shadows go completely still inside her.

“I know we… don’t really talk to you, or anything.” With a sigh, Adam shakes his head. “But we know how important you are to Meta, and how you’ve helped her so much. And.”

“We want you to be happy with us, too. You’re part of this family, too.”

The tears spilling over aren’t entirely her own. Meta blinks, once, twice, thrice, and with her voice, it is Malice who says,

“P-please. Please, I—I’d like that… so much. I want, I want to. I want to be—"

The rest of her words fail to come out, dissolving into tears. Adam and Eve immediately envelop her in an embrace, and after three heartbeats of silence, the rest of the family moves to join the hug as well. Raisa, Cagliostro, Robin, Hansel, Gretel, Adam, Eve, all quietly cuddling Meta-and-Malice as they cry two hearts’ worth of love and warmth and sheer joy.

**If only,** Malice whispers, **if only this moment would last forever.**

* * *
    
    
    > stop aka_rec
    
    
    AKASHIC RECORDER PLAYBACK FUNCTION HALTED.
    
    
    > del
    
    
    ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DELETE CUSTOM GAME SCENARIO [M]?
    
    
    > y
    
    
    SCENARIO DELETED. STARTING NEW GAME…


	2. goodbye, and we'll never ever meet again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a what-if of a what-if, where the twins _don't_ betray meta, and they all move to cagliostro's house and live happily ever after. that is, until malice realizes that it's time for it to go. darkness has no place in the light.

It ends slowly.

Not with a bang, as she had once feared. _Hoped_ , almost. Not with anger, or screaming, or violence. No threats, no tears, nothing.

It took her too long to realize. By the time she well and truly noticed it, her other half had already begun to fade away.

For years they’ve lived in peace. Well, relative peace anyway, there still was the occasional petty argument they went through here and there. When had it started? Yesterday, a week ago, a month ago, a year ago? When they finally came out to their family? When they moved to Calgaround, to Cagliostro’s house, to start a new life? When they celebrated their first birthday together? When they laughed together for the very first time?

Was it… from the moment they’ve made peace with each other’s existence?

Meta sobs, the harsh, pitiful sound tearing itself from her throat before she can stop and swallow it. She glances around; it doesn’t seem like anyone had noticed her, miraculously.

Eve is in the kitchen, along with Cagliostro, both mother and son humming along to some lullaby that sounds faraway to her ears as they work together to prepare the night’s meal. Adam and Robin are in the living room with the twins, playing some card game or other that has all four of them laughing and cheering when the father relents and folds his hand, surrendering victory to the girl who always wears her red riding hood.

Before she realizes it, her hands fly to cover her mouth, a pitiful attempt at masking any other noise threatening to spill from her lips. She has—she has to get _away_ , somehow. Somewhere. Where? Where can she _go_?

The agony of decision stews in her thoughts for less than a second before she instantly makes up her mind. There’s only one place to go to.

“I’m going out for a bit, I’ll be back soon.” Rasping out with an unsteady voice, Meta grabs her cloak from the coat hooks beside the door and bolts outside, just barely missing the six pairs of concerned eyes watching her leave.

* * *

Here she is again, back where it all began. Running through the deepest, darkest parts of the forest, heedless of the mottled-red flowers on either side of her path.

Back then, she was a fugitive on the run, her beloved twin children held close to her chest. Further back, those flowers were spattered with red, bowing under the weight of the blood on her hands. Going back to her earliest waking memory, she had always wanted to _escape_.

Now, no more. No more escaping, no more running away. She wants to confront the truth, see it with her very own eyes.

(But isn’t this, in a way, running away from the truth once more? You can’t escape _this_ , Meta Salmhofer.)

The clearing comes into view much sooner than she expects, and she doesn’t know whether that’s a good thing or not. The forest floor feels foreign beneath her bare feet, even though she’d been here plenty times before, accompanying Eve during her trips to the forest god for prayers of guidance and gratitude.

Now, though, she feels the collective weight of countless stares on her back, silent and judging. She kneels before the Millennium Tree and claps her palms together, touching the thumbs to her forehead in a poor imitation of what she saw Eve do in worship, many times before.

“Please, Lord Held, I beg of you,” she whispers, the words feeling like ash on her tongue, “Though I may not be your most devout believer, I beg of you, please, let her be okay.”

With that pathetic excuse of a request finished, she closes her eyes and wills herself to do something she hasn’t done in literal years: delve deep into the confines of her inner psychological world.

When she opens her eyes again, her heart leaps to her throat.

The first thing that catches her attention is the cacophonous, dissonant array of shifting reds that makes up her shared mindscape—or at least, that was what she had _expected_ to see. Instead, what surrounds her is—an almost-exact match of the scene in the physical world she left just moments before; for a split-second, she can almost believe that the ritual had failed in some way, that her modified body-swap technique hadn’t gone through for some reason, she hadn’t done it in a long time after all, and that all she needed to do was to try again, and again and again and _again_ for as long as it took to succeed.

Except. She hadn’t failed at all, had she?

“Silly little girl,” in place of the Millennium Tree, her shadow laughs, dropping to its knees so that they are eye-to-eye, “Coming all the way out here to this cold, dark forest, just to see me again? What a fool you are, Meta. You could’ve stayed at home, where it’s bright and warm.”

“Malice.” Meta whispers, because she doesn’t dare raise her voice any higher than that. She doesn’t dare reach out and enfold the amorphous form of her other half in a hug, even if her heart is screaming at her to do it. She doesn’t dare, doesn’t _dare_ —doesn’t dare do anything her heart is screaming at her to do, because… “Malice… why…?”

The shadow cocks its head, white eye-lights narrowing as if in thought. Meta wants to scream, to beg it to drop the act, but she doesn’t dare. Her hands tremble on her lap. Her legs jitter as they struggle to support her weight. Her whole body feels like it’s going to come loose at the seams and shake itself apart.

“Why, what?” At last, after a moment of silence that felt like an eternity, the shadow answers, bringing a hand to rest over its chest. Translucent. Hazy. Growing dimmer with each passing second. “Why am I fading away? Is that what you wanted to ask?”

Meta’s breath hitches in her throat. Something burns hot and bitter behind her eyelids.

“You’ve grown up so well, you know?” Abruptly changing course, the shadow reaches out to caress Meta’s face. Meta doesn’t dare lean into its touch, afraid that if she does, then the spell will be broken, and she’ll be left all alone. Again. “You’re not that scared little girl anymore, aren’t you? When we first talked, when we first acknowledged each other. You were so, so scared. But you’re getting better now. And I’m so proud of you.”

“Don’t go.” The tears are falling freely now, her face crumpling into an ugly expression as she struggles to hold back all the emotions warring for dominance in her head. She wants so much to hold on and to never let go. She doesn’t dare. “Please, don’t leave me alone.”

“You’re not alone anymore.” The shadow is the one who leans forward, pulling itself tight around her in a loving embrace. She wants so badly to reciprocate, to wrap her own arms around the shadow. She doesn’t dare. “You have Eve, and Adam. Hansel and Gretel. Cagliostro and Robin. You don’t need me anymore, Meta. It’s time for me to go.”

“No… no, no, no— _NO!_ ” The dam breaks. Meta screams, falling forward into her shadow’s waiting arms as she begs, pleads, cries out her heart. The shadow holds on, or rather—lets Meta cling onto it like a lifeline, resting its chin on the top of her head and patting and rubbing comforting circles on the small of her back.

It doesn’t say anything. What words are there to say?

After Meta’s screams had subsided into sobs and further dwindled into shallow breathing, only then does the shadow pull back, holding her hands in its own. Leaning forward, it presses a gentle kiss to her brow, then presses its own forehead against hers.

“Why do you have to go?” Meta asks, tired, defeated, resigned. “Why can’t you stay? Is it… something I did, something I said? Is it—is it my fault?”

“No, no, no. It’s—well, it’s simply time, you know? I’ve been with you since the very beginning, I’ve watched you grow. I’ve driven you to do evil, I made you a monster. I’ve made you do so many things, I forced you to commit so many sins, just to appease my whims. My programming.”

“You… you didn’t _force_ me to do anything!” With a burst of anger, Meta yells, her grasp on the shadow’s hands tightening. “Sure, you told me to do those things, but—I _chose_ to do them! _I did them of my own accord!_ My sins are mine and _mine_ alone, Malice!!! YOU’RE NOT THE ONE WHO IS EVIL!!!”

“…But then, neither are _you_.”

Silence. Sighing, the shadow shakes off Meta’s slackening grip, reaching up to plant its hands on both sides of Meta’s face.

“I’ve been with you since the very beginning. I taught you about evil, about pain, about fear. You were scared of the world, of everything, of yourself, so I taught you the meaning of those words. So that I could protect you from them, the only way I knew how. Violence for violence. Manipulate before you are manipulated. Kill or be killed. I was your only comfort, in a world that hated you. You hated the world, and so did I. I was your only friend. And you were mine.

“But then, you taught me about words I didn’t know. Didn’t have the capacity to _understand_. You taught me the word ‘mother’, ‘children’, ‘family’. You taught me about love. More importantly, you showed me love, proved to me that we could love. Could _be_ loved. Eve, Adam, Hansel, Gretel, Cagliostro, Robin. And before them, before either of us understood what it meant, Raisa. They loved you. You loved them. I loved you.

“I kept you safe, in a world that only wanted you dead. I was your only friend, and you were mine. But the world changes, doesn’t it?” Laughing, the shadow closes its eyes. “The world doesn’t hate you anymore. You don’t hate the world anymore. You don’t need me anymore, Meta. There are people who love you, who would miss you if you were gone. There isn’t anybody like that for me.”

“I’ll miss you.” Meta whispers, eyes shining wetly with tears. But she has come to accept the undeniable fact; this is goodbye. This really is goodbye. “I love you. I won’t forget you.”

The shadow shakes its head, in a way that makes panic bubble in Meta’s veins.

“My memory will only bring you pain. It’s best if you don’t remember me. This is truly goodbye, Meta. Now, close your eyes.”

“No… no, no, _no_ —” Like a broken record, the word falls from her lips repeatedly, even as her eyes slip shut. Even as the comforting grey presence around her fades to white. “Malice, please, Malice, please don’t make me forget you, please, please, _please_ , Malice, please, _I love you…_ ”

“Go to sleep, Meta. Shh. It’ll be alright, everything will be alright. You’ve grown up so well, I’m so proud of you. I love you too, Meta. With all my heart. With all my soul. Thank you, for everything you’ve done for me. For teaching me those words. For letting me be your other half, even though you never really needed me. You’re you, Meta, not one half of a whole, you’re not perfect and you’re not without faults but that’s why I love you and that’s why I’ll never forget you, so—please, don’t remember me. _Lu li la, lu li la, la la la la la la la la la la la la lu lu lu…_ ”

* * *

When she opens her eyes again, earthen brown flickering out to be replaced by gently glowing white, there are six pairs of concerned eyes watching her.

Malice resists the urge to laugh, her heart swelling with love and warmth. Instead, she crosses her legs and tips her head back, gazing at the night sky with a serene smile on her face.

“How much did you hear?” She asks to nobody in particular, fixated on the full moon and the twinkling stars hanging overhead.

“…All of it.” As one, the twins guiltily answer, hanging their heads in shame. “We’re very sorry for intruding.”

She doesn’t say anything, keenly, painfully aware of the sleeping soul nestled inside her, still shedding tears even in sleep. Meta might’ve been too out of it to notice, but she had—the unmistakable presence of two others in their headspace, watching in silence, uninvited.

Of course. They’re Meta’s beloved twin children, after all—they’d be the first ones to notice.

“You all saw it, right?” She gestures vaguely at the haphazard puddle of water behind Cagliostro and Robin, chuckling at how their expressions fall ever-so-slightly.

Did they think she wouldn’t realize what they’d done? She’d recognize a divining pool anywhere; she once chanced upon Raisa using one to discreetly check on the son she left behind when the Netsuma alchemist thought the other Apocalypse members weren’t around to see her in that fleeting moment of weakness.

Now that she thinks about it, Malice muses, that was probably the moment Meta started to see her fellow terrorist in a different light. Oh well, no time to dwell on the what-could-have-been. Now, there is only the what-will-be.

She tries to picture the succession of events after Meta’s hasty exit.

The six of them followed her to the forest, Adam leading the way. Hansel and Gretel transported themselves into her mental world, where they bore witness to what had transpired. Focusing on linking with the twins, Robin opened up a telepathic channel between them. Then Cagliostro used his alchemic knowledge to create a makeshift divining pool, and Eve lent him the magic needed to activate it, creating a window for everyone to see through and into Meta’s mindscape.

“So, you know what’s happening. Good. That’s good.” Nodding, Malice lowers her gaze to her hands crossed neatly over her lap, trembling. “Then I don’t need to explain everything again. I only need to say goodbye.”

It’s Adam who breaks the monstrous ensuing silence. “Why do you need to leave? You can stay. We’d gladly let you stay.”

Malice flicks her eye-lights up at him, fond exasperation curling on her lips. “Sure, sure. And you’re still a terrible liar, Adam.” Her cynical smile softens just a bit when he turns away, biting his tongue. “Isn’t it a little bit cruel? To still lie to me, after all this time?”

“Isn’t it a little bit cruel?” Eve parrots back, jaw clenching. “To leave? Just like this? I—yes, I’ll admit, I’m still scared of you. I still don’t know what to make of you, what to think of you. But…!” Her voice cracks. “She loves you, so, so much. Why do you have to leave?”

“Because she doesn’t need me anymore.” Malice answers, patient. White lights flicker, then droop half-lidded. “Because she has all of you by her side. She’s not in danger, she’s not living in fear. She’s happy, and she’ll still be happy when I leave her side.”

“Bullshit.” Cagliostro seethes, shoulders tense. “That’s a lie and you know it! You’re a part of what makes her happy too, gods-damnit. She’ll be crushed when you’re gone!”

“She won’t.”

“I don’t understand!” Robin cries out, clutching at her hood and pulling it over her eyes. “Why’d you have to go? Why can’t you stay?!”

Malice smiles, then looks to the two people who haven’t yet said a word during this whole exchange. She reaches out with both hands and ruffles Hansel’s and Gretel’s hair, façade crumbling ever-so-slightly at the look of devastated understanding on their faces.

“You know the answer, don’t you?” She prompts, earning a slow nod from the both of them. “Then you know what you must do.”

“Okay.” Hansel hiccups, while Gretel only wordlessly nods again, white ribbon bobbing on her head. Adam, Eve, Cagliostro and Robin look at the three of them with confusion and more than a little apprehension.

“Malice?” Eve asks, eyes pleading. “What do you mean? What are the twins going to do to you?”

Malice doesn’t answer, slowly turning to gaze at Eve with sadness written plain on her expression.

“I’m sorry.” Is all she says, and—the next few moments fly by in a rush.

Abruptly, the white lights flicker and die out, leaving behind dazed brown eyes, glazed-over and slowly slipping shut. Meta’s body—now devoid of a driving force, Meta herself still ensorcelled by deep sleep—topples over, barely being caught by Adam, Cagliostro and Robin scrambling to help him.

“Meta—Malice—what is…?” He panics, propping her up against his chest. “E-Eve! Help, she—she’s not waking up—"

But when he cranes his neck to look at Eve, his heart leaps to his throat. Eve looms over them, Hansel and Gretel on each side. Her eyes are glowing white.

“I’m sorry.” Malice says again, only in Eve’s voice this time.

The white lights flash a brilliant green.

Adam screams for the rest to close their eyes, but it’s too late. Caught and ensnared by the hypnosis, he slowly rises to his feet, carrying the still-sleeping Meta in his arms, and turns around, dutifully walking out of the clearing without another word. Cagliostro and Robin follow shortly behind him, holding hands so as to not lose each other in the forest in the dark of night. Going back home, where they will sleep, and they will wake up from nothing more than a strange dream of someone that never was.

Malice watches them go, tears silently slipping down her cheeks as she feels more than hears Eve wailing inside her head, begging, pleading, crying out her heart. Raising her hand to her chest, she wills the soul inside her to fall asleep as well, a sob tearing itself from her throat as Eve lets out one last desperate scream before succumbing to slumber.

It doesn’t matter. She, too, will forget. Everyone won’t remember her, and that’s for the best.

Once again, she sinks down to her knees on the forest floor, prostrating herself before the Millennium Tree, hands clasped together and head bowed in prayer.

“Please, Lord Held, I beg of you,” she whispers, the words feeling like fire on her tongue, “Though I may not be a believer of the gods, though I may not belong in this world, I have only one last request. One final, selfish wish. Please, let her be happy without me. Please, let her keep smiling that lovely smile of hers, no matter what.”

Finished with that pathetic excuse of a request, she opens her eyes and raises her gaze to the sky.

“The moon and stars are beautiful tonight.” Malice murmurs, pulling the twins closer and pressing a gentle kiss to their foreheads. “Hansel, Gretel, be good children, alright? Don’t ever let Meta cry.”

“Okay.” Gretel hiccups, while Hansel is the one who wordlessly nods this time, eyes teary. “And… thank you, Malice. For being by Mama’s side, all this time. For being her best friend.”

“Of course,” she chuckles, ruffling their hair one last time, “I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

Pulling back, the twins spread their arms wide, their voices mixing and combining and rising into a crescendo that resounds throughout the forest. A lullaby that she heard somewhere, once. Maybe she’ll get to hear it again, soon, very soon.

Malice feels light, impossibly light. Weightless. She looks down, and sees Eve sleeping peacefully on the forest floor, her cheeks stained with tears. On either side, Hansel and Gretel sing, even as they shed hot, bitter tears of their own.

Their magic rends her from Eve’s body and soul, severing the last connection she has to the world, and she floats up into the sky, untethered, even as the gentle light of the moon and the stars burns through her very being. Wiping her slate clean, as it were. Purifying her existence.

This is it.

This is her chance at atonement.

This is her Re_Birthday.

She prays to whatever gods may be listening, that she could be reborn as something new. Something different. Something that doesn’t need to feed off hate, or fear, or pain. Something that doesn’t need to hide in darkness, something that needn’t shy away from even the idea of love. Something that doesn’t fade away in the light.

She prays, and hopes, and dreams.

_Goodbye, Meta Salmhofer. If we ever meet again in another life, let’s teach each other new words again. Just the two of us._

Malice closes her eyes, and is no more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey there my dudes, houfuku here hahah;; im still kinda a little out of it but im getting better! slowly getting better... in any case, this little thing i wrote concerns something that hits very close to home for me. um cw me talking about my weird neuroatypical fuckiness road work ahead
> 
> i dont know whether its like, a mental illness thing or whatever, since i never officially got diagnosed for anything because coughcoughmyparentsdontbelieveinmentalillnessescoughcough but have you ever um. have you ever had a voice in your head who you treated as a friend? and you cared for it because it cared for you and got you through A Lot? and maybe you kinda fall in love with it even though thats really weird in every way imaginable.
> 
> then you grow older, and then one day you just realize that you dont hear that voice as often anymore, or at all? and then you feel really sad, and maybe you feel a bit guilty because you forgot about that voice and now you dont know how to call them back? and youre scared that youre gonna keep forgetting more and more and doubting yourself more and more, until maybe you dont remember that you had a voice in your head at all
> 
> yeah. that's the general kinda feeling i was aiming for here i guess. sorry i guess im rambling abit at this point ahaha. in any case thank you for reading what is essentially word/emotion vomit + me being proud of my evichro ocs/aus and wanting to explore them more! this fic was all me, no beta-ing or proofreading by seisaku so sorry if its weird or theres a bunch of typos and. yeah. ok. big thanks
> 
> \--h


End file.
